


together, we grow old

by lazingcat



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: A.N.G.S.T, Accidental Warlord AU, Angst, Gen, Inspired by The Accidental Warlord and His Pack Series - inexplicifics, Platonic Relationships, and some comfort, humans need them too, just hug it out, time doesn't heal all, witchers need lots of hugs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:08:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28336704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazingcat/pseuds/lazingcat
Summary: Renata's had to mourn her brother twice.They say time heals all. But it's been 273 years and nothing has changed.It only makes sense that it takes accompanying a Witcher back to Kaer Morhen to make sure he doesn't get himself killed on the way, to start to move on. (Doesn't make it suck any less though.)
Kudos: 20





	together, we grow old

There’s a woman in the town Józef frequents who always carries around the smell of grief and guilt, masked by the sweet scent of freshly-baked bread. It wasn’t an unusual smell. These types of towns are usually plagued by illnesses and drowners; it was harder to find someone who hadn’t lost somebody than not. 

No, what was unusual was how that smell of guilt reeked every time her attention turned to him. It made him suspicious at first, after all, surely she must have done something to him for her to react that way. But for all that he racked his head trying to remember her face, nothing came up. 

She might’ve been someone from a town who tried to send him away without pay after commissioning him but those have been rare since the White Wolf took over.

More importantly than that however, she lacked the acrid smell of fear of someone like that. All together, this mystery made Józef curious. Well, a Bear’s standard for curious anyways which meant he kept her in the back of his mind, only bringing up to front the rare times he sees her in that town.

That all changed on an ill-fated mission that bore no chance of anything other than utter devastation. They were told that there was an Alp haunting one of the smaller villages near Redania, a minor case that would have easily been handled by three Witchers. 

Between the three of them, it should have been an easy battle. They stocked enough Black Blood potion and Vampire oil for a few Alps just in case the villagers miscounted. 

But the villagers hadn’t miscounted. 

They lied. 

What greeted them wasn’t a lone Alp feasting on some innocent villagers. It was a whole coven of fucking bruxae whom the villagers struck a deal to help sacrifice travelers in exchange for their own lives. Those potions they thought to be an overkill were suddenly on their last bottles and while a Witcher could take on a bruxae by themselves, against seven of them with dwindling support and endurance, it was no longer a matter of defeat but rather survival.

When the last bruxae fell, Józef heaves all his body weight onto his sword, gasping for air. His ears still ring from their sonic attacks that knocked him back one too many times. Trembling hands coated in blood and grime up to his upper arms knock back a blood-replenishing potion, a taste so vile it normally made Józef want to gag.

But the potion had nothing on the sight that made Józef actually retch. Meters away from him laid Ryszard whose eyes stare at the sky, unseeing. Parts of Czeslaw are scattered along the battlefield, the first to fall to buy Józef time.

Ever since the White Wolf united the schools, fallen Witchers on the Path had decreased to a rarity. Józef had nearly forgotten just how wrenching the pain of a fallen brother was, and now staring at their still bodies, he curses at himself for letting himself grow fond of them.

For someone hailing from the School of Bear, Józef’s hardened heart was the easiest to warm and those brats who were barely a century old had found a way to wriggle into it, claiming pieces with them, had built with him a pack to call their own.

As black spots start to appear in his sight, Józef resigns himself to his fate. Blood-replenishing potions do nothing in the face of poisons, and the amount he swallowed was far too little for the amount he lost. If he sees those brats again, well, there were some things he hadn’t the chance to say yet.

 _Yeah, that wouldn’t be so bad,_ Józef faintly thinks to himself, wheezing on his last breath. _It wouldn’t be bad at all._

***

Józef rouses to consciousness with the paranoia of someone within the enemy line, immediately arming himself with the first weapon-like item in his vicinity and scouting the open window for incomers.

With his body still aching and unwilling to cooperate, Józef only has his senses to rely on, straining his ears and nose for signs of anybody nearby.

When all he hears is the rushing of water, there’s a moment when Józef can just breathe. Within that breath, he scans his surroundings at what seems to be a small cabin bare of anything but necessities. It’s when he takes a look at himself, wrapped in bandages that are already starting to soak with his blood does he remember he was not alone.

At the memory of Ryszard and Czeslaw’s prone bodies, Józef chokes. One inhale transitions far too quickly into a stuttered exhale, the space between each breathe closing in, quicker and quicker, _and he can’t breathe, he needs to breathe, he needs to-_

“Hey, HEY,” a voice calls out to him harshly. By instinct, his arm lurches back to land a hit on their thorax, buying Józef time to scramble back wide-eyed. He still can’t breathe, can barely fend off this intruder if they were to venture closer but he will not go down without a fight.

The woman props herself up with a splutter but makes no move to approach Józef. Instead, she warily eyes the weapon in his hand before holding up both of her hands in the universal signal for goodwill.

And then she does the strangest thing; she starts taking loud, slow breaths.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

And Józef finds himself even more strangely, mimicking her until his own breaths even out. That’s when he recognizes her.

The woman who reeks of grief and guilt. Only now, she exudes concern over...him? Logically, that doesn’t make any sense but he was the only one in the room besides her, and oh. Disappointment settles in.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Józef gruffly says.

The woman quirks an eyebrow and looks pointedly at his bandaged, well, everything. “I’m aware,” she says blandly, and nothing more.

 _This was a first,_ Józef thinks to himself, _someone who can outquiet a Bear._ Because the woman doesn’t say anything for the next minutes and it’s clear to him that unless he makes the first move, they were going to sit in silence.

So he doesn’t.

And they sit in silence for the rest of the night.

**Author's Note:**

> This idea's been bouncing around in my head for the longest time after falling in love with inexplicifics' Accidental Warlord au back in August and I'm super excited to finally put this monster of a plotbunny into words.
> 
> In case anybody's wondering: Ryszard's a Crane and Czeslaw's a Cat.
> 
> Also, while I'm perfectly aware that Józef's being hypocritical with his words at the end, he is not and next chapter will be fun when he does end up realizing. Poor guy.
> 
> Anyways, hope y'all have enjoyed reading and happy holidays!


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